” “Is my sister’s Christian name, then, of so much importance to you?” she asked with a faint smile. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. ” “Well, perhaps it is a bit depressing. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. She pushed him gently on the chest. She wasn’t sure of herself when she said it. Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!" Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface. And she found herself able to do nothing of the sort.
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